But Men Are Men, the Best Sometimes Forget
by nitpickernose
Summary: Watanuki is having a bad day.  What will make it worse? Slight AU.


**But Men Are Men; the Best Sometimes Forget**

**Disclaimer:** CLAMPS!

**Pairings:** Guess.

**Author**: Just for fun. Not to be taken too seriously.

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It happens because she is warm.

It's because of today, of Himawari and Doumeki, because he always gets all girl's attention. It's because Doumeki always is around him and the boys make fun of him. He heard one of the girls on campus today ask him about his boyfriend, and he just about lost it.

_What makes you say that he had asked._

_It's because you two are always together, and you seem kinda. . ._

Girly.

It happened because felt didn't feel like a man. It happened because she teased him.

He came to the shop, the same shop that he's been working at for years, and Yuuko was whining about supper as she sat in the tea room. He barely had enough time to take off his jacket when she started pouting all dramatically. She had known something was wrong right away. He hadn't even unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeve when she began to tease him.

"_Why so down, Watanuki?"_

He hadn't answered as he wanted to think carefully about what he said next because he knew that she would twist just about anything he'd say.

She did it anyway.

"_Do you want me to call Doumeki over to cheer you up?"_

He swore one of his molars almost broke when he heard her say that name. He exhaled and shook his head irritably.

"_Watanuki, you're no fun,"_ she had drawled, _"You use to be so much more passionate."_

He almost turned away then to grab his apron when she stopped him.

"_I still have that pretty Alice in Wonderland dress, would that make you feel better?"_

He had been controlled enough not to smash her tea pot.

"_I'm not a girl!"_ he had snapped and at his words she laughed.

Standing up, she'd crossed over to him and for the first time since he'd entered the shop that day, he had a chance to look at her properly. Her hair was down and dressed only in a very thin, blue kimono. And maybe it was because he'd had a horrible day, maybe it was because he was in the place he considered home, maybe it was because so many of his college mates considered him to behave more feminine, but he noticed something about her. Yuuko was always beautiful, but remarkably so today.

"_Not a girl?"_ she leaned in close, _"But you have such pretty features."_

He had almost turned around to scream at her when her body brushed past him and he gasped. He could feel her skin through that light, thin kimono. The only time he'd ever really felt her touch were the times she'd run her fingers down his cheeks and under his chin and her wintery tips had always caused a chill to shoot down his spine. Naturally, he assumed that the skin over her body would be as cold.

It seemed appropriate to expect this. She seemed to him in the beginning more like a siren, luring him with a beautiful song to his death. Later, she became to him more of an enigma. Not really human, but not fully a spirit. It felt strange to him to see her do mundane, normal things like watch TV or riding the subway.

Recently, he hasn't really been sure what she is to him, but now, feeling her skin, she's warm. She's human.

She's a woman.

When she heard him gasp she had stopped, stared him down, her eyes curious. She could see him staring at her kimono, at the curved lines of her body under that thin material. Suddenly his throat had gone dry. Perhaps she'd known where his eyes were looking. Perhaps she'd foreseen what was to come. Perhaps that was prompted her to say what she said next:

"_Do you want to borrow this kimono?"_

It happened because he'd had been teased. It happened because Doumeki never left him alone.

Because he'd had a bad day.

Because he felt like less of a man.

Because he'd been frustrated for a long time.

But mostly, it happened because she was warm.

All that has lead up to now, at this moment.

She's warm.

And he snaps.

He doesn't think when he grabs her wrists, doesn't think when he pulls her to him. For a fraction of a second her eyes widen and she looks alarmed and the sudden contact of her body against his transfixes him. Then her mouth sets and she looks angry, but so is he, he's angry and frustrated and he isn't thinking. When her body sets against his and she seems so real. So touchable to him, he feels his face flush.

"_Wata-"_

"_I'm not a girl_!" he repeats pulling his face close to hers. _"I'm a man, dammit!"_,

Her face softens, but he's really too dizzy to care and the next thing he's aware of are his hands as they move over the fabric of her kimono, over her body. He can smell the scent of her skin and feel her jaw against his cheek. All he's aware of is her and the cold prints of her fingers as they slide down the side of his face, but that's the only part of her that's cold.

Her chest rises and falls deeply and rapidly against his and he wants his mouth to devour every fiber of that warmth that's searing off of her.

Slinging his arm around her, he turns her around, pressing her back against his front as he walks her toward the table. His legs feel like jelly, and he notices that she's having trouble keeping her balance as they walk. In one full motion, he bends her upper body over the edge of the table and she rests her forearms on the table to steady herself as he stands behind her.

His left arm is still around her stomach and he can feel a flutter ripple under the skin of her belly. With his right hand, he reaches down and grabs her knee, sliding it up the length of her thigh until it disappears under her kimono. The fabric of his pants feel much too tight when his fingers skim over the area of flesh where her thigh and hip connect. He continues to caress her there as he realizes that this kimono is the only thing she's wearing.

He can feel his heart pounding, hammering against his chest and the sound of her breathing is making him light-headed. The noises that she makes aren't exactly the sounds of objection so when he frees his left hand to pull down the back of her kimono, he doesn't think to stop.

She's beautiful. Grabbing the color at the base of her neck, he pulls the material of her kimono down as far as it will go. At the sight of her exposed skin, he feels something hot and salty roll into his eye and he pushes her long hair away from her back. She must be hot too because the sweat from her body causes some of her dark strands to stick messily to her skin. Her body glistens and the curve than runs down her back is absolutely perfect.

His other hand has moved from her hip and is now rubbing the soft skin of her inner thighs while his left hovers over her back. He can feel the heat radiating off of her and this fever that she has given him. . . Another bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and drops from his brow onto the dip of her back.

He watches as it lands, a little droplet at the base of her lower back. A wet speck on her porcelain skin and he has a sudden urge to know what her flesh tastes like. Lowering his mouth, he begins to greedily consume the skin of her back.

She tastes. . .wonderful. She's soft and warm and her back rises when she breathes. Moving up, he kisses her between the bone just below her shoulders and when he wraps his arms around her stomach, he pulls her torso up so that she's into a standing position. Because her kimono is loose, the front fabric hangs loosely around her shoulders. He uses this opportunity to kiss her shoulder-blades, her neck, the exposed bicep of her arm. When he bits her ear, he runs his fingers down her throat, chest, stomach and his fingers brush over the sash, still knotted around her body.

When her legs begin to shake slightly, Watanuki pushes her into her previous position and as he does so, both of his hands are under her kimono again, and he gently messages her hips. He hears her moan into the table and she softly starts to roll her hips every time he pushes and squeezes his fingers into her skin.

As she does this, his eyes close and he lets a not-so-unexpected shudder run through him. A terribly-fantastic hot pressure is building, and though he is inexperienced, he knows this feeling well. It's just never felt this good and he lets himself drown in the fever of her. Of Yuuko.

Yuuko.

It's then that his fever breaks and his eyes snap open.

He's doing this to Yuuko-san.

While the thought of doing this with Yuuko makes a hot, incredible flush run from the pit of his stomach to his groin, he gets an equally dark rush of guilt from his belly to his heart.

Looking down, he sees her back rising and falling as she takes shallow, deep breaths. His hands are on fire and his hair is damp and vision swims with desire as his body tells him: _Don't stop. Please, don't stop._

His eyes are glazed and his fingers are shaking and suddenly he's backing away, flying across the room until his back hits the wall. Yuuko turns and when she faces him, her kimono his disheveled and it hangs oddly from her form. Her sash has been turned sideways and her collar barely covers her breasts and even though her eyes are always heavy lidded, now there is a yearning, a fire there that he has never seen before.

Silently, they stare at each other. His tongue is thick and his throat is dry and the only thing he can think, the only thought that crosses his mind. . . _Did she want that?_

He can't breathe, his lungs expand and contract and no air enters his body. The next thing he knows he dashing to the front door of the shop as he runs out into the yard.

His body still doesn't want to let her go and he hates himself for it, but he needed that. And he needed that from her.

Watanuki leans over, his throat constricts. He feels sick. From shame or longing, he can't tell. But the air makes the sweat cool from his skin in the summer dusk. Looking up, he sees he's under the cherry tree. This time of year the cherry blossoms are gone, but the tree is still beautiful all the same.

Why did he do that? What made him think he could do that to her? Yes, he'd never done that before, but he's not an idiot about sex. He's glad he had enough control to stop before it got too crazy. However, he knows how it works, how it's supposed to go. How it's supposed to be right, romantic. Not an uncontrollable, rough, lose of insanity.

But. . .

But she was warm and he was a man. Maybe not the most testosterone induced, muscled, manly man. But he was still a red-blooded male. A man that needed to feel needed. And he needed to take charge, to drive a woman wild. Not just any woman. Her. To make her want him.

Even so, did he have to do it like that?

He runs his hands through his hair and wonders how he will ever face her again. She is not to be touched. Ever. And he totally overstepped the boundaries of the master and student.

As he struggles to comprehend how he can put all this back together, he hears her exit the shop. Turning around, he watches as she moves down the steps and crosses the yard to him. Yuuko doesn't look as she did a few moments ago. Her kimono is perfectly wrapped around her as if it never had been touched at all. That's about as far he can let himself look at her before he drops his head.

The wind blows between them as he fights think of what to say.

"_Yuuko, I'm so sorry,"_ he croaks out shakily, his voice thick with emotion.

He wanted to be a man for her, and now he can hardly hold back his tears.

He wonders if she'll slap him, discipline him or simply kick him out of the shop for good. The latter would utterly destroy him. But then he feels that warmth again. The one that drove him mad before now calms him.

His eyes open and he sees that the warmth is coming from her hand, its cradling his cheek and her gaze is soft. It's the same gaze he sees when she's being sincere. By that look her in eyes, he realizes that maybe. . .just maybe. . .she needed to feel needed, too.

She moves closer to him as her hand slowly slides from his cheek, across his jaw, down his throat. And as her fingers skims his chest through the open collar of his shirt, the sensation of her lips flutter over the side of his face and the hot gust of her breath rushes into his ear, he hears:

"_You're going to have to pay the price for that,"_ she whispers.

He's sweating again as his collar is sticking to his chest. A droplet rolls down his throat and glides down his chest just as she traps it under her finger. Turning his head slightly, he meets her eyes with his and notices that their lips are centimeters apart.

And just like that. . .his fever returns.

And her body is warm.

_So, so warm._

_The End_

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**Author: **So, this was just an excersise to get my writing groove back. I got the idea because I wondered if what would happen if Watanuki ever got a strong burst of testosterone. I know we all love it when he acts so emotional, but I wanted him to take charge. Review if you liked, and thanks for reading!


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